


New Caprica is Burning

by sleepismyfriend



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-10
Updated: 2010-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-10 21:49:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepismyfriend/pseuds/sleepismyfriend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is never a moment's rest on New Caprica.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Caprica is Burning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [miabicicletta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miabicicletta/gifts).



> The prompt was Adama/Roslin.

He finds her tracing a mud path in front of her tent when he arrives, bundled up in winter gear that he had brought out from the supply rooms. New Caprica is colder than he expected it to be for this particular time of year, and he wasn't sure how well the people were faring with it.

"I'd hate to be the one who pissed you off," he says, smiling and trying to hide the fact that he's only piloted himself down for the day to be detained by Baltar for the better part of an hour and a half at his expense.

One day of shore leave is never enough anymore.

"No, no." She shakes her head, her unruly mass of hair covering her hot tear-stained cheeks. "It's nothing, Bill."

"Bullshit." Bill smiles, once again trying to find the humor in the fact that they're both alive and stuck on a planet that neither one of them will ever believe is home. The people around them may disagree, but he still believes in Earth.

More important, he still believes in her.

Crossing the distance between them, he watches her put her armor back together piece by piece, the fragile holdings of her former Presidential self in place as she looks up at him and he touches her cheek. Anything else out in the open is considered too much.

"Didn't know you were one to call bullshit," she says, quieter than he thought she would as his hand lingers and she resists the urge to lean into his hand. She wishes they were anywhere else, whether in the warmth of his quarters or a spare box.

Anything with four walls, a door and a few moments of privacy. Fabric tents are not an alternative for any of those things.

"You'd be surprised." He wants to lean forward and kiss her, damning themselves for the few people that bother to pay attention except that as he decides to he ignores that part when they hear the screams emanating from down the mud-filled streets.

The marketplace is burning.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Simple Truth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/163284) by [sleepismyfriend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepismyfriend/pseuds/sleepismyfriend)




End file.
